Tenacious Trio
by goodolrupes
Summary: Sequel to Dynamic Duo. Buffy is expecting, Giles is missing. Will they ever get a chance to enjoy life?
1. In the In-Between

Giles winced as he stepped into the bright morning sun, bags in hand. He'd got enough food to feed a small army, and some prenatal vitamins for Buffy, as well as some vitamin E oil. Epsom salts and some organic cranberry juice. Anything he could think of that would help her during the early stages of pregnancy.

A man with a cap bumped into him and muttered an apology. Giles only nodded and smiled, already looking to his car as he walked on. He grinned as he loaded the items into his trunk, glad to be done with his errands. The sooner he finished, the sooner he could return to Buffy. He couldn't believe his luck. That she could love him at all… _and now she's expecting and ready to marry_. He never dreamed she'd find such happiness in her life, let alone that it would include him. He shut the trunk and twirled the key ring on his finger as he stepped around to the lock of his driver's door.

He saw the shadowy reflection of the man in the cap, in the glass of his window, a split second before a billy club crashed into the back of his skull. Giles groaned and slumped forward, sliding down the side of his car, his keys clanking as they hit the ground. He was caught and dragged by the man in the cap, another joining him to speed the process. A van pulled up behind the car, and they hefted him into the cargo compartment efficiently. They climbed in, slammed the sliding door, and banged the barrier window twice, sending the van lurching forward.

* * *

From the depths, a familiar buzzing skittered along his skull. He wanted to push it away, escape further into unconsciousness. _So bloody tired… everything hurts_.

" _Giles_?"

He stopped, turning his attention back to the buzzing.

"Buffy?" She sounded so far away. A light in the distance flickered into existence, then slowly grew until all he could see was his slayer, sitting on the floor of their flat. She had her eyes winced shut, and she was clutching Willow's hand.

"Giles, where are you?" she said, her lips motionless.

"I'm here," he said, reaching for her. His fingers swiped through the air as he reached for her.

* * *

Willow and Tara chanted softly, their voices harmonizing over the small candle between them. It relaxed Buffy a little, helped her focus on her watcher. She could smell Giles' cologne, as if on a breeze, and a ghostly tremor trickled through her sternum. Her eyes snapped open, and Xander flinched, shifting away from the stare. Buffy's features slackened and her posture relaxed, her hand slipping from Willow's grasp.

"I think she's mind-melding again," he said.

"Should we s-stop?" Tara asked, biting her lip.

"The spell is probably helping," said Willow, looking to Buffy. "If he's really far away she might need the boost."

"Is this going to take very long?" asked Anya. Willow shot Anya an angry glare. "What? It's not like my success rate is abnormally low –"

Xander grabbed Anya's hand and kissed the back. "Have I told you how pretty you look today?" he asked quickly, diverting her attention.

Willow waggled her fingers and wove them with Tara's, pressing their palms together. At a nod, they began chanting again, letting the outside world slip away as power flowed in and around them.

Buffy's eyes snapped open and she was suddenly standing, stepping forward, crushing him into a hug. He picked her up, letting her feet dangle as he held her to him. He could feel her desperation as if it were his own, and knew they must be in a trance again. Memories flashed and flared.

"I'm so sorry, love," he said into her neck, kissing her below her ear. She slowly slid down his frame, though she didn't let him go.

"Giles, where are you? How do I find you? Who did this to you? What the hell is –"

Gently, he tapped his fingers to her lips, giving her a wan smile. "The council."

Her features turned stony and she looked around, realizing for the first time that the space around him was a dense, endless void. "They knocked you out."

"Most likely," he said, thinking back to the pain he first felt. "I imagine I'm in holding somewhere."

"Do you think you're still here, or…?"

He thought for a moment, then glanced into the flat behind her. "What time was it when you realized something was wrong?" he asked.

"Late," she said, embarrassed as she looked down and pressed her forehead to his chest. "I fell asleep waiting for you to come back and the gang realized you were missing when they came over."

He felt another pang of panic, but it wasn't his usual anxiety. It was foreign, tight, like a coiled spring... It constricted around him, making his breath hitch a bit.

"If it's been long enough I'm likely back in England," he said softly.

"Goody," she muttered. "That narrows it down to just a few thousand places you could be."

"Closer to fifteen, actually," he said with a small grin, gently pushing her away, tipping her face up to his. "If I'm in England, there aren't many facilities that could hold me. Fewer still if this isn't sanctioned."

"So an illegal arrest by the council. That makes it so much better," she said, her annoyance plain. "Gee, I wonder if they plan to give you a stern talking to."

He hummed and sighed, wondering how he was to help. She ran her hands down his sides to his hips, giving a playful squeeze, drawing his attention back down to her.

"Why don't you wake up and then come back? I can wait here a few minutes."

"I'm not certain it works that way, Buffy," he said, running his hands down and up her arms to cup her shoulders. "I may not be able to come back."

"Can't you just make a TV like I did?" she asked next.

Before he could argue with her, his small black-and-white television popped into view. He blinked and looked from the TV back to Buffy.

"And a pony," she said, laughing when a shiny black pony appeared, shaking its mane and glancing around, alert and stamping at the non-ground. The feathery tufts of hair at its hooves waved as if in a gentle breeze.

"Is that you or me?" he asked, bemused. She moved to the pony, her hand stretched out.

"It's gotta be you. I don't think I've ever seen a pony like this before," she said quietly, her eyes wide.

"That's a Dales pony," Giles said faintly, his attention back on the TV. He stepped forward and carefully twisted the plastic fob, turning the TV on with the familiar flickering and hum of electricity buzzing along the screen. The small screen slowly came into focus. Dank, mossy brick walls, worn with age. Dirt floor. Cot. Heavy wooden door with iron bars and hinges.

Buffy craned her neck to look around him. "Look familiar?" she asked over her shoulder. She chuckled as the pony nuzzled her palm. She pet its thick mane, careful to keep her movements slow.

"Not in the least," he said quietly.

"Ok…" she said, a pout beginning to form. The pony trotted away into the darkness. Buffy stepped to Giles and wove her fingers with his, joining their hands. As he looked down into her eyes, they seemed to go blank.

* * *

Buffy's voice broke through the soft sound of the girls' chant. "Willow."

Xander and Tara jumped, and the chant abruptly stopped.

"Jesus, Buffy," said Xander, putting a hand to his chest.

"I told you," said Anya, flipping a page in the book she held. "No one wants to listen to Anya. Anya's just a crazy ex-demon."

"Did you find him?" Willow said, her brows tipping up with hope.

"Kinda. He said he's probably in England by now." Buffy fidgeted and continued, "I was wondering if we could scry him if we're connected?" she said, tapping her temple with her finger.

"Does he even have a map of England here?" said Xander.

"I don't know… that's a lot of distance," said Willow, biting her lip. Her brow furrowed as she looked from Buffy to Tara. "We might not have the juice for that kind of casting."

"He should put out a beacon," said Anya, still half-engrossed in her book.

All eyes turned to her, their brows climbing up. "A beacon?" asked Tara. "How would he do that?"

Anya rolled her eyes and slapped the book closed, glaring at the two witches. "This is why we need regulated witch education. If there was a curriculum, you would learn more than just whatever you stumbled on in the Magic Box –"

Xander put a hand to his girlfriend's knee, patting it quickly. "That's a great idea, An. What do you say we talk about it when Giles is back?"

Anya huffed and let the book fall to the floor with a heavy thud. She leaned forward and snatched a piece of chalk from the witches' supplies. She began drawing out a circle around herself, old and arcane symbols twisting in a scratching, curly script as she quickly illustrated the necessary glyphs. She tossed the chalk back to Willow and settled onto her knees within the circle.

"So you just – ugh, she's staring again," Anya said, crossing her arms.

"I think she's just t-trying to show M-Mr. Giles so he can cast the spell," said Tara.

Anya flashed an annoyed look at Tara before sighing. "She better be."


	2. Serious Mojo, Man

"…and then you say the D'Heuryn prayer and you're done," said tiny black-and-white Anya. Giles finally understood how nonsensical it was to have such a television.

"Do you know the prayer?" asked tiny black-and-white Willow. "I don't want to assume Giles knows it."

"I am surprised by you lot more and more," Giles said softly. "You're growing up, becoming wise."

"Yeah, I saw Xander wisely eat a slice of pizza by shoving the whole thing in his mouth on a dare," said Buffy. "He has a gift." Giles snorted.

"I think he has the right text," tiny Anya said, standing and turning in the circle, scanning the spines of the books nearest her. "It might take some time to find it, though."

Giles stared at the symbols, unsure how he was supposed to remember the complicated images when he could barely make them out. _Not a bloody chance_ , he thought.

"You can't give up," said Buffy. "You have to try, at least."

He blinked at her. _Did I say that aloud? That's not like me_ , he thought, worry tinging.

Buffy tilted her head, then shook it. "No, I don't think you did," she replied. _I think I heard it anyway, though_ , she thought.

He gasped, his eyes going wide. _We're reading each other's thoughts!_ Giles turned, beginning a short and quick pace as his mind shifted into overdrive. His voice tumbled around her mind, hundreds of thoughts happening at once.

 _I can't allow unfiltered access –_

 _Her clothes are always –_

 _She's going to think me mad –_

 _Why can't we have one normal –_

Buffy closed her eyes and carefully exhaled, pushing his thoughts out like one might shoo a cat out the door. Giles could feel the moment that portion of the connection severed and stopped pacing, turning to look at her with careful study. He sighed and grabbed the glasses from his face, set to wiping them as he tried to consider this new facet of their relationship.

"We can talk about that later," she said quietly. "But I think… I think maybe we should try to use this connection to perform the spell."

He sighed. "How are we to do that? We don't even understand how this works," he said. "And there's no guarantee I will remember anything when I wake."

"I was able to wake up enough to talk to the Scoobies. I came back without a problem." Buffy stepped forward, her hand smoothing over his chest to his shoulder. "I bet you can use your big ol' brain and figure out how to do it, too. You just have to try."

A small, hesitant smile pulled on his lips. "I suppose I can try."

She grinned and pushed up on her tip-toes to kiss his chin. "That's the spirit, Watcher-mine." She wove her fingers through his again.

* * *

Buffy blinked a few times and let out a slow breath, bringing the Scoobies' attention back to her. She stood slowly and moved to the circle Anya had drawn.

"Anya, have you found that book yet?" Xander asked carefully.

"No," said Anya, huffing. "His organization methods make little sense."

Willow perked up, standing and helping Tara up from the floor. "Well, he might be using a system like he did in the old library. What's the name of the book? We can help."

Anya scanned a row of tomes as she sighed. "If he has it, the book is called ' _Muldrake et Sul'Dunne_ '. It's –"

"A book you shouldn't even know about," said Buffy, though her tone was heavier than usual. It sounded like Giles' sarcastic British clip. "You'll not find it in the general collection." Buffy turned and headed to the stairs, woodenly climbing the steps to the bedroom.

"What the hell is going on?" said Xander, staring as she disappeared above.

"I'm pretty sure that was Giles," said Willow, worrying at her lip. Tara reached out, offering silent support.

A few thuds later, and Buffy was descending the stairs, flipping through the pages. When she'd found it, she stepped into the circle and lowered to her knees, setting the book onto the floor for a clear view.

In their minds, she said, "Ok, Giles, now you have to try to wake up on your side." Giles took a fortifying breath and gave her a slow kiss, full of aching and longing.

 _I love you, Buffy_.

 _We love you, too_.

His eyes pricked with the sting of oncoming tears and he blinked, trying to combat the feeling. As he blinked, Giles' vision changed from his slayer's loving face to the wall of his holding cell. He sighed and closed his eyes again. He could still feel her, feel her hands in his, her strength in his mind.

Giles opened his eyes again and carefully rolled over to sit up. _Bloody fucking Christ_ –

"Giles!" Buffy's shocked voice echoed in his mind, followed by a brief giggle. He winced and gingerly touched the back of his head. A sizeable lump pulsed there. He was lucky it was higher up than his normal head injuries. _Maybe it wouldn't compound with the others_. "We're having a serious talk when you get home," she added. He groaned as he lowered himself to the dirt floor, the ache of the injury stabbing down his spine and along his shoulders with electric pulses.

As he settled onto his knees, he closed his eyes, and he could see her there, on her knees in their flat. She leaned forward, her finger tracing the circles and glyphs. He mimicked her movements, carefully tracing the symbols in the dirt. With that complete, he looked to Buffy in their in-between place, pulling her forward and leaning his forehead to hers.

"Focus on that page, love. I can barely see it." In the flat, Buffy stiffly reached forward, pulling the book up to her face. He chuckled and kissed her again. "Thank you."

He took a slow breath and focused his will into his own body, keeping his eyes closed as he studied the prayer before him. He may need to return the favor someday, but he couldn't worry about that at the moment. He needed to get out of this cell as soon as possible.

Kwi Jennu vur Janikup D'Heuryn (Oh Great and Mighty D'Heuryn)  
Si drekik di dout ingowil (I beg of your grace)  
Soves sia latali ekess ve (Guide my allies to me)  
Vur troth udoka de levnim (And protect us from harm)  
Krivim sia irlym (Hinder my enemy)  
Zyak si nomag tiichi dout vers (So I may praise your power)  
Persvek ibleua si vinxa (In humility I thank you)  
Kwi Jennu vur Janikup D'Heuryn (Oh Great and Mighty D'Heuryn)

He carefully opened his eyes at the last, surprised to see a faint glow shining up from the glyphs in the dirt. They brightened a fraction before the glow seemed to sink into the ground, smoke rising as if the soil itself had been singed.

"Looks like it worked," Buffy whispered into his mind. When he closed his eyes, she was standing there in a beautiful flowing summer dress. The flat was gone, and in its place was a never-ending field, flooded with wildflowers and a warm breeze. He moved toward her, but the distance seemed to stretch with each step.

She smiled a sad smile, her hand running down her belly. He saw a shadow flit across the ground, as if a large bird were flying by. He looked up into the cloudless nothing and saw a flash of light and smoke before it circled around Buffy and flared wide.

It was shaped as a dragon, catching itself on the wind before descending to her. He felt frozen in time, unable to act as he watched the smoky dragon twist and wrap its arms and wings around Buffy. The smoke filled her eyes, her mouth, her nose, her ears. Then her eyes were ablaze, the light from them so blindingly bright he had to shield himself from their glow.

When he lowered his arm, he was back in the dank cell, sitting alone in the dirt. He carefully pushed himself up onto the cot and leaned back, closing his eyes again. All that met him was the familiar nothing, and it had never felt so empty as it did now.

* * *

"What the hell was THAT?!" Xander said again, his back pressed against the wall. Willow pressed her hand to Buffy's face, biting her lip.

"That was D'Heuryn," Anya said calmly. Again.

"But what did it do to Buffy?" Xander demanded. "Is she dead?"

"She's fine," said Anya.

When he looked to Willow, she shook her head slowly. "She's breathing."

"She'll wake up in minute. We should probably figure out how to get her to Giles before the beacon dies," said Anya.

"It can die?" said Xander, turning incredulous eyes to his girlfriend. "It's temporary?"

"Of course it is, Xander," said Anya, laughing. She turned back to the books.

A small moan escaped Buffy, a wisp of smoke curling up from her lips. She smacked them together, grimacing. "What –"

"Take it easy," said Willow, carefully helping Buffy sit up.

Buffy wriggled her fingers, staring at them a moment. She looked up, past Willow, her brows high.

"What's wrong?" Willow asked, looking over her shoulder.

"I can – I can see which way to go. I can see this line of light that goes straight to Giles," said Buffy.

Willow stared at Buffy, and winced as she studied her friend's eyes. There was a golden rim around the blue-gray depths.

"Wow."

Buffy blinked and looked back to Willow with a grin. "It's weird."

Anya _tsk_ ed and turned to the group, hand on her hip. "Do either of you witches know how to teleport or make a portal? It's probably the fastest way there."

"That's way above my ability," said Willow, her red hair bouncing as she shook her head. All eyes were drawn to Tara, who was biting her lip and wrapping her arms around herself. "Tara?"

"I know how to, but it's n-not a good idea," Tara said softly. "A lot can go wrong."

"I'm sure we can help stabilize it," said Willow, looking to Anya as she added, "right?"

"I don't have any powers," said Anya, disgusted. "My source was shattered, remember?"

"Anyone can help channel a spell," said Willow. When it looked like Anya might argue, Willow's Resolve Face appeared. "Just get over here and sit down. You too, Xander. We have to get this done." Anya glared as she stomped forward and plopped onto the ground. Xander reached for her but she slapped his hand away, rebuking his attempt to calm her.

With a brief change in supplies, Willow and Tara drew out a door on the wall of the flat. Tara took Buffy's hand and led her to the drawing, placing Buffy's hand on the wall.

"When it appears, you w-won't have very long. Just step through like a n-normal door," she said quietly.

"Thank you, Tara," said Buffy, giving her a quick hug.

Tara nodded and moved back to Willow to begin the ritual. Willow began to chant, holding hands with Xander and Anya as Tara carefully lowered herself to the component bowl. A feather, some balancing oil, and a sprinkling of amber dust. She lit the components ablaze and reached into her bag, pulling out an ornate knife. She put it to her hand and sliced it along her finger. Blood trickled into the bowl, dousing the flame, and a wind swirled around the group.

Willow raised her voice to keep the chant going, and the air pressure shifted as the door drawing swirled out of existence. It twisted, following the path of light Buffy could see from the beacon spell. In place of the wall was an emptiness, with Giles in his cell on the other side.

"Giles?" called Buffy.

"He can't hear you," said Tara, yelling above the wind. "It's one-way!" At Buffy's hesitation she added, "Go! Now!"

Buffy sprinted forward, jumping over the threshold into the portal. For the briefest of seconds, she felt as if she were floating in space, her body frozen in time, and in the next second, she was skidding to a stop on the dirt floor of her watcher's cell. Giles yelped and rolled away, falling between the cot and wall. She looked back and saw nothing but a stone wall.

In Sunnydale, the portal shuddered and collapsed, cutting the spell down. The wind left as quickly as it came, papers slowly fluttering to the ground.

"Aw, man," Xander said, sighing as he examined the room. "Now we have to clean."


	3. Make Like a Tree

Giles slowly lifted his head, his brows high enough to kiss his hairline. He pulled himself up and stepped around the cot, his hand stretched out, disbelief on his features. When she met his hand with her own, he tugged her to him, lifting her as he had in the in-between. Her toes tapped his shins. The increasingly familiar feeling of his slayer's presence in his mind slipped into place, washing him in the amazing feeling of home.

"How did you – did you teleport? What –"

Buffy chuckled and covered his mouth with hers, silencing his questions. When she wriggled, he let her down, ignoring the aches in his joints in favor of keeping his grip on her.

"You'll not stop me finding out," he said quietly, tipping his forehead down to rest against hers.

"Later," she said, just as quiet. "We have to get outta here." Turning from him, Buffy looked behind her and moved to the door. She stood on the balls of her feet to see how thick it was.

"I could probably break through but it would be really loud," she said. She looked over her shoulder at him. "And really hard." Her hand wrapped around the handle and with a firm twist and pull, the hardware fell from the door.

"Show off," he muttered. She grinned and carefully pulled the door open, peeking out into the hall.

"Looks clear," she said, turning back to him. "Anything I should know?"

"I've only been conscious ten minutes, love." He looked down at her clothes, noticing for the first time that she wore his pajama shirt, a pair of sweats, and her running trainers. "Buffy… what...?"

She followed his gaze and then grinned, shrugging. "I was waiting for you to come home. I didn't know I'd be taking the Tara Transcontinental today." Buffy turned from him and looked back into the hall. "We should probably go while we have the chance." She waved for him to follow and disappeared around the door.

She didn't know why she felt so certain of the direction they needed to go, but she could feel it pulling on her from the base of her stomach. It was warm and confident and instinct. Giles followed with a light step, keeping her in view and listening for possible threats.

When they reached the end of the hall, she peered around the corner and whipped back, holding her finger to her mouth. Giles stopped, and after a moment, heard the oncoming steps. When the steps were near, Buffy sprang into action. She kicked the fellow's feet from under him and moved into position, pressing the ball of her foot to his throat.

"Stay down," she warned, pressing a little harder when he made to reach for his baton.

Giles quietly moved forward and knelt next to the man, disarming him with ease.

"Rupert?" the startled man said with a gurgle. Giles stilled and studied his face, first confused, then surprised to recognize one of his captors.

"Mitchell?" he said softly, leaning forward. "Are we in Kent, then?"

Mitchell shook his head, careful not to make sudden moves. "Darkhouse, outside Bath." Mitchell's expression didn't seem to lose its alarm or concern, and Giles carefully nodded at Buffy to release his old classmate. Mitchell moved a hand to his throat, sucking in fresh air carefully. "What the devil has you here?" said Mitchell.

"I guess he doesn't do the fetching," said Buffy, her expression dark with anger.

"Fetching?" Mitchell said, then looked back to Giles, his eyes wide as he pushed himself up onto his elbows. "They put you in holding?" Giles nodded, though he didn't relax. "Bloody hell." Mitchell looked up to Buffy, his brow furrowing as he blinked at her. "What's she doin' here?"

"Getting my watcher back," she said, her patience draining. She leaned forward and yanked the keys from his belt loop.

"Oi!" he said, his hand landing where his keys had been. "You can't have those! I don't care if you are the slayer."

Before Buffy could retort, Giles' fist shot out, landing a punch. Mitchell groaned and slumped over, unconscious. Giles wagged his hand, but kept quiet as he stood and grabbed Mitchell under his arms. He grunted as he started dragging Mitchell back down the hallway.

Buffy stepped forward and hefted Mitchell onto her shoulder, shushing Giles' protest, and jogged back towards the cell where Giles was kept. She unloaded the man into the cot. She pocketed his radio and with quick work, his hands were bound with his belt, his shoelaces were tied to bind his feet, and his tie made a serviceable gag.

"I almost wish I could be here when he wakes," said Giles, flashing a grin as he followed her out of the cell.

"Don't press our luck," she said, grinning back.

* * *

They made it to the ground floor of the compound without incident, but when Buffy tried to open a window, an ear-splitting siren wailed and a sheet of steel slammed down. She barely avoided the crushing metal.

Buffy tipped her head back, hands on her ears. Giles saw her mouth move, but he couldn't hear what she said over the siren. He stalked further down the hallway, Buffy on his heel, when four men burst through the double doors, dressed and helmeted for a riot.

Giles barely had time to halt, but Buffy used her momentum to jump into a kick that sent two of the men flying backward through the doors. She twisted and blocked an incoming attack just in time, and the brawl was on. Using Mitchell's baton with a deft swing to the back of the head, Giles was able to knock the helmet from a guard as Buffy swung her fist – she had to pull her punch at the last second to avoid killing him - and the guard slumped to the ground like a sack of potatoes.

The remaining guard stepped back, bracing himself behind a riot shield. Buffy looked to Giles and wagged her brows, her subtle grip in his mind alight. _You go low, I'll go high_ , she thought. Giles nodded and waited for his opening as Buffy jumped high, driving her fist into the center of the shield. The shield splintered from the force of her blow, but the guard had bigger worries. Giles' foot slammed into the back of the man's knees, sending him to the floor as well.

"No!" a muffled scream sounded as the guard held his hands up in surrender. Buffy snorted and reached down, removing the radios from their utility belts. She threw the radios against a steel-covered window, shattering the plastic devices.

They wasted no time, moving past the double-doors, but the other two guards were long gone. The siren abruptly silenced, leaving their ears ringing.

"Cowards or cavalry?" she said, looking down each of the three hallways for signs of movement.

"Both, more than likely," Giles replied.

"We have to get out of here," said Buffy. She turned to the left but Giles caught her by the shoulder, turning her to face him.

"We need to consider our route carefully," he said, nodding to the other hallways. "We don't want to go further into the belly of this beast."

"I know where I'm going," she said, tugging on his hand. "We're almost out, I can feel it." Giles considered the window they'd tried to use and nodded. They rushed down the left hallway, the time for stealth past. They approached another set of double doors and pushed through, expecting to find more hallway. Instead they were greeted by darkness and the smell of fresh rain on grass.

"Subjects are at the south exit. Repeat, south exit!" said a garbled voice from the radio on Buffy's hip. She and Giles exchanged a small grin. She unclipped the radio and turned it off before tossing it into the hedges lining the clinical-looking building.

Hands clasped, they stepped into the night, greeting the darkness with silent thanks. They ran forward until they encountered a tall stone fence. Trees were nearby, but the limbs had been hedged away from the wall.

"We can't scale this," Giles said, huffing a little as he ran his fingers along the wet stones. "It's covered in moss. There's nothing to grip."

Buffy snorted. "I'll boost you Giles, it's fine." She squared down, cupping her hands.

"Then how would you –" At her flat-lipped look, he realized how ridiculous his almost-question was. "Oh. Yes, well…" *cough * "…thank you, love."

Giles stepped into her hands and gave a single hop before his body shot upward, nearly going too high. He gripped the lip of the stone toppers, one leg swinging with momentum to land him hard at the top of the fence. He grunted, wincing from the shiver of pain running up his back.

 _I'll feel that the next few days_ , he thought.

 _Better than being dead_ , thought Buffy.

Giles looked down to see Buffy had backed away and was now running head-on at the wall. She flipped forward into a handspring and vaulted high – Giles' heart climbed up to claw at his throat – clearing the fence and tucking into a clean roll on the other side. It took a second or two for his heart to beat again, and when it did, it was hammering against his chest.

" _Bloody hell_ ," he hissed, rolling his hips to bring his other leg over the wall. Buffy helped him drop safely, but he was too focused on his fear to have noticed. "You must be more careful, Buffy. We don't know what kind of-of-of protections, or vulnerabilities, you have with this pregnancy."

She bit her lip, properly chastised. "I didn't think about that," she said, putting a hand to her abdomen. "I think everything's ok?" Floodlights flickered to life on the main building and she grabbed his hand. "C'mon."

They disappeared into the woods, using their uncanny connection to converse where they could be safe.


	4. Into the Night

_I think we can slow down, now_ , thought Buffy, huffing a little as she hopped over a fallen tree, in line behind Giles. She sighed and sank down onto the log. _We should probably figure out where we're going_.

"Unfortunately, I'm not entirely sure which direction we're headed, let alone whether it's the right one," said Giles. He put his hands on his hips, twisting carefully to test his bruised body. The aches felt deep, and would likely be his companions for the weeks to come. "If we could find a road, I could at least get a sense of where Bath is. I could – "

A snapping twig in the distance cut him off and Giles dipped into a squat, searching the darkness for signs of movement. Buffy turned and looked as well, stretching open her senses for threats. He was so focused that he let down his guard, and his vision shifted, sharpened, the contrasting shadows and objects easier to make out. But then Buffy turned, looking at him, and Giles could see himself in the night, a soft glow of light leading to him, giving him a shimmering appearance.

With a gasp, Giles closed his eyes, but it didn't stop the view he now had of himself. When Buffy sniffed, Giles was inundated with the surrounding scents – he could smell his sweat, the mossy earth, and the dull density of the forest. He could smell the blood on his clothes, and the smoky incense on Buffy's. Her hair's gentle femininity floated on the breeze as it curled around her. As his senses became hers, others trickled in, such as the trilling of crickets, the dip in temperature that would likely mean rain, and a tightly coiled, smoky heat in his center.

 _Is this what you experience?_ Giles thought. _Is this normal?_

 _Well, normally there's more distractions. Vamps and cemeteries, you know._

He nodded and carefully took a breath, slowly pushing her out of his mind. "We should be careful," he said, almost an apology. "We don't know what the consequences are as yet."

After a short silence, Buffy said, "I don't think there are any real consequences, Giles. I think this is the way it's supposed to be for us."

He turned to study her face, disbelief flitting over his features. "How can you be sure?"

Buffy furrowed her brow, searching his eyes. "Can't you feel it? How right it feels when we're…" She pushed her fingers through his and grasped his hand, pulling it up between them. "It fits."

"Of course," he said, covering their hands with his free one. "But we both know how dangerous and harmful unfettered thoughts can be."

"I only have a little control over it," she said, keeping her voice low. She rubbed her eyes, blinked a few times. "I wonder how long this spell is going to last."

"Was that the beacon?" Giles asked.

Buffy nodded. "Anya said it's temporary, but I don't really know _how_ temporary."

"Another item to research when we get to the estate," he said quietly, his eyes now searching the darkness again. "Come, let's try to find the road."

Buffy let the comment go in favor of finding a way out of the woods. She looked about, studying the surrounds, listening, considering. Finally she settled on a direction a bit right of their current path. "This way," she whispered, tugging on his fingers.

Weaving his fingers with hers, they set a trek and carefully picked their way through the forest. After about an hour, Buffy pulled up short, holding her hand up. "Listen!" she said softly. In the quiet of the forest, a gentle hum could now be heard. The sound of an engine in the distance. They sprang into action with renewed adrenaline, running swiftly through the trees toward the sound of salvation.

They made it to the road and were glad to see a car approaching. Before Giles could stop her, Buffy stepped forward, waving her arms in the beams of the headlights. The driver swerved to the other lane, the brakes squeeling, abruptly skidding to a halt. Buffy and Giles rushed forward, Giles to the driver side to look in the window.

Inside was a middle-aged woman, her hand at her throat. Giles gently tapped on the window.

"Are you alright?" he asked. The woman cranked her window down and craned her neck, and so he asked again, "Terribly sorry. Are you quite alright, madam?"

She nodded, though she looked frightened. Buffy appeared at his side, and she leaned down, smiling at the woman.

"Sorry, hi. I just need to get home and I was so glad to see you driving by," she said, putting her hand out. "I'm Buffy, and this is Rupert. Could you tell us if that's the direction to Bath?"

"Y-yes," the woman replied, regaining some of her composure. "Are you lost?"

"Kinda," said Buffy. "I wanted to go for a hike and we had a little accident, so the dark came and before you know it, we were completely turned around in the woods." She bit her lip. "I need to eat something soon. My doctor said I can't skip meals with the baby on the way." Giles barely withheld a snort and coughed instead, letting a hand rest on her shoulder.

The effect was immediate. The woman wrapped Buffy's hand in her own, concern melting her features. "Oh, heavens, girl, why didn't you tell me straight away? I can take you there," she said with a motherly pat. "I'm Vera Bradwaithe. I'll see you and your… friend to Bath, right as rain."

Giles climbed into the car in the back and slid to the passenger side so Buffy could join him. "Lovely to meet you, Ms. Bradwaithe," he said, grunting when his shoulder pinched from the irregular movement.

Buffy followed, sitting in the center of the back seat, curling her side along Giles. "Yes, thank you so much. We should probably get Rupert to a doctor tomorrow before we go to the cakery."

"Cakery?" said Vera, slowly merging back onto the empty road.

Buffy grinned and tipped her head to the side as she nodded. "We're getting married, and I have to get him to taste the cakes." Buffy sighed the long-suffering sigh of a much-put-upon fiancé. "He tells me he'll be happy with whatever I choose –" she leaned forward for a conspiratorial whisper – "but we both know if the cake isn't right, he'll regret it."

A warm smile slowly spread across Vera's face, and Giles remained silent as Buffy prattled on. He offered hums of acknowledgement and stayed out of the conversation, enjoying this short rest, a fantasy where Buffy had no other worries than getting her fiancé to agree to wedding arrangements. It was a stroke of normality she never seemed to have, and he wouldn't rob her of it.

His thoughts were interrupted when Buffy's elbow nudged at his ribs and an involuntary gasp of pain escaped him. His hand shot to his side as he winced and leaned forward. The adrenaline of their run had worn off, it seemed, and now the pain will only grow more intense until he could get some rest and a hot shower.

"Is everything alright?" asked Vera, slowing so she could look over her shoulder.

"I'm sorry!" said Buffy, covering his hand with hers. "It's not broken, is it?"

"No, it's fine," Giles said through his teeth. "It just surprised me, love. I'll be fine in a moment, truly."

Buffy pouted and ran her thumb over his cheek, giving him a soft kiss.

The car pulled to a stop and Vera pushed the gear into park before turning in the driver's seat, eyeing the pair. "What happened in those woods?" she said.

Buffy bit her lip and looked to Giles, clearly unsure how to answer.

"We… we wandered into some sort of restricted area," he said, trying to keep as close to the truth as he could. "They had guns, so we ran… and I took a fall thanks to a well-hidden rabbit hole and a-a steep creek bed." He shifted, rubbing the spot Buffy had bumped with her elbow, tiny tight circles massaging the sting away.

"It's all my fault," added Buffy, drawing Vera's attention, "If I'd just let him take me to a park or something it would've been fine. I'm just used to hiking the hills at home." Buffy shrugged and lowered her eyes. "I can be stupid sometimes."

Vera moved to speak but stopped when she saw Giles straighten, his pain forgotten as he chucked his hand under Buffy's chin, pulling her face up to look at him.

"Don't be daft," he said softly, smiling down at her. "You are many things, love, but stupid isn't one of them." Buffy slowly smiled, her love for him written on her beautiful features. "Stubborn, perhaps, but –" He chuckled as he ducked a swipe at his head. Buffy chuckled, too.

"Yeah, well, takes one to know one," she said with a pointed look.

Vera turned back around and opened the driver's door. Giles and Buffy watched, confused, as Vera walked around to the back of the car and dug into the trunk. When she returned, she offered a small, rattling box.

"There's paracetamol and bandaging," she said, smiling as she put the car into gear again. "We should make it to Bath at half past."

"Thank you," said Giles, his brows high as he opened the miniscule first aid kit. He took four tablets and closed it back up, leaving the tiny roll of bandaging in its place.

"So how did you meet?" said Vera. "I can't imagine it's your average tale of boy meets girl..."

"You got that right," said Buffy, earning a chuckle from Vera and a warning squeeze from Giles. Buffy thought on it a moment, and at her hesitation, she saw Vera look at her with concern in the rearview mirror. "I'm just trying to figure out where to start," she said. "We've known each other much longer than we've been… um, together."

"Oh, lovely," said Vera, smiling. "I love couples who are friends first."

Buffy grinned. "We were best friends," she said, leaning back and crossing her arms. She didn't notice Giles curiously watching her as she began to speak. "Giles was a librarian, and when we met, he was all buttoned up and stiff-upper-lip." She paused and chuckled. "I'm sure you know the kind." Buffy sighed. "We worked hard into the night, always researching some thing or another. I did a lot of the field work –"

"Researchers, how lovely," said Vera, almost reverently.

"It was hard work," said Buffy, nodding matter-of-factly. "And then earlier this year, he was in an accident, and I didn't know. I couldn't find him and I was scared to death."

"Oh my, whatever happened?" Vera asked, her breath caught.

"It's a long story," said Buffy, beating Giles to the punch. "But… when we finally found him, I realized how devastated I felt thinking I'd never see him again. And things just… grew from there."

"So now you're engaged and expecting. How wonderful," said Vera, the motherly tone coming back.

"It is," said Buffy. "I didn't think I'd ever have kids, so –" Buffy stopped, realizing she'd almost started admitting more than she needed to. "Sorry, listen to me, going on and on. Tell us about you, Vera. What are you doing out so late tonight?"

 _That was close_ , Giles thought, his voice tickling her mind. She grinned and politely pushed him out to focus on their helpful new acquaintance.


	5. We're Not Outta the Woods Yet

When they arrived in Bath, Giles offered a phone number to Vera. "If you should ever need help of any kind, please call us. We would love to return this kindness."

"I'm sure I won't need it, but thank you. Get your lovely girl home safe, now," she said, wagging an admonishing finger his way, though her smile took the seriousness from her tone.

Vera waved, cranked her window closed, and drove into the night. They watched her turn from the street and looked at each other, smiling.

"I still can't believe we found the road," he said softly, hooking Buffy's arm in his. "You've never even bloody been here."

"You're the one always telling me to trust my instincts," she said, grinning. "So where are we going now?"

"I have a place just there," he said, pointing down the road. They walked along the sidewalk, the city around them quiet in the wee hours of the morning. The only light came from street lights and the occasional upstairs window.

"Pretty much a party town, huh?" said Buffy, grinning at his chuckle. He winced and pulled his free arm up against his side. "Sorry."

"I'll be fine," he said gruffly.

They walked on in silence, listening to the sleeping city as they climbed the slight hill of the street to its end, where a tall iron gate between two stone pillars stood. He stepped up to the small electronic call box and pressed a button.

The box crackled to life and a small, haughty tone said, "Giles residence."

"Hello, Thomas, it's Ru-"

"Master Rupert?" the voice said, shocked. A moment later a buzzing sound rang out and the gate clicked. Giles stepped forward and pushed it open, keeping her arm tucked into his.

"Master Rupert?" she whispered.

"Don't."

"Giles –"

"I'll explain later," he said quietly, straightening as a berobed older man stepped out onto the front stoop of the tall building. "Thomas, good to see you," he said, extending his hand.

The man forgot to finish tying his bath robe as he stepped forward and wrapped Giles into a brisk hug. Remembering himself, he stepped back, giving a semi-formal nod. "Sorry, sir, it's just been so long since –" Thomas stopped, staring at Buffy. "Is this your slayer, sir?"

Buffy blinked, turning a questioning gaze to Giles.

"Yes," he said, wrapping a hand around her shoulder as he moved to step inside. "Perhaps we should…?"

Thomas scrambled inside, holding the door for them until they entered, and shutting the grand door behind them. He moved to a panel in the wall and typed on a numerical keypad with age-spotted hands. A familiar buzzing sounded. He had wiry, thin hair and long ears.

Giles was already stepping up the stairs, pulling Buffy with him, when Thomas turned back to them.

"Beg your pardon, sir, but how long should we expect a stay?" he asked quietly.

"Not more than a week or two, Thomas. We found ourselves here quite by mistake," said Giles. He looked down at the man as they turned up the next flight of stairs. "I assume father is still in town?"

"Yes, Master Rupert –"

"Wonderful. We shan't inconvenience you, Thomas," Giles said with a stiff nod. "Thank you. Goodnight."

Giles steered Buffy down a long hallway into a large, ornately decorated room. He sighed as he closed the door, tipping his chin almost to his chest. He flipped the switch, bathing the room in the soft, warm glow of old bulbs. Stately, rich fabrics and colors glowed in the light, all in pristine condition. Buffy walked around the room, taking in the details. She stopped at a framed picture on the bureau, picking it up and tracing the small face with her finger.

"Little Giles was cute," she said, keeping her tone neutral. Giles answered with a long sigh. "Is this your mom? She's beautiful –"

"Please don't," he said quietly, turning to her. "I can't answer your questions right now. There's too much and I'm running ragged as it is, love."

Buffy put the picture back and moved to him, cupping his face with her hands. "We don't have to stay here. We can go anywhere you want."

"I have no money with me, Buffy. My wallet is in the boot of my car."

She bit her lip, fighting the smile trying to rise. "I don't have my ID either. I'm here illegally."

He grinned and pulled her into a hug, burying his face at the crook of her neck. He couldn't believe they'd gotten out of that wretched facility. Made it back to Bath. They were safe, for now.

"We're going to be okay, Giles," she said, the same certain tone she'd had in the woods. "Everything's going to be okay."

She took care of him, then. Undressing him, petting and massaging him, kissing his tension away in the luxurious folds of the bed. They cuddled close and fell blissfully into sleep.

* * *

Buffy found herself in a small, dark hallway, only slightly familiar. She didn't know why she felt familiarity with this place – she'd never been here before. She heard low voices murmuring at the end of the dark hall, light peaking under a slightly open door. She quietly slipped along the wall, listening as the voices got louder, easier to distinguish. When she was just outside the door, the voices were crystal clear, and her chest was tight with fear at seeing what lie beyond.

"Rupert, buddy, I'm here to tell you I'm impressed," said Angel, landing a heavy hand on the tied librarian's shoulder. "How're you holding up?"

"Never… better…" said Giles, breathing through the pain.

Buffy pulled the door open, her mouth dropping at the sight. Giles fingers were grotesque, swollen and twisted at unnatural angles.

"Glad to hear it," said Angel, squatting in front of Giles with an unseen tool in hand. "Now. Tell me when it hurts."

The color drained from Giles' face, but he didn't scream out. Searing pain pulled along her inner thigh and she looked down to see her thigh bleeding, and now she was Giles, staring down as Angel carved shallow cuts of flesh from the meat. He sniffed it before licking the blood from it and tossing it over his shoulder.

Buffy strained against the ropes binding her – binding Giles – but all she could do was watch and listen in horror at the things being done to her watcher. The cuts. The cigarette burns and the acrid smell of burnt flesh. Tauntingly pulling on broken bones. One bright hot point of pain seared along her shoulder and she screamed, her eyes wrenching tight.

It stopped abruptly and her eyes shot open as she looked down at the desk where Giles sat in the library office. His green mug steaming a fresh cup of tea, and she heard her voice say, "… so that's good, right? Angel did a good."

A drowning wave of anger and grief and disappointment and pain surrounded her. Every time his fingers had ached, he was reminded of that bastard, and she had the _nerve_ –

Buffy shut her eyes again, more than aware of the lecture that came next, but it didn't drown his voice out. The pain that lanced every fiber of her middle at hearing his broken voice pushing through with some strength she couldn't define before. She felt it now. It was rage and pain. She'd done this to him. She'd done this to him and there was nothing she could do or say –

Breaking from memory, the Buffy of then started crying. Buffy whimpered and realized she was in one of her older nightmares. The one where she hadn't left before she cried.

"I'm so sorry," she heard herself sob. "Giles I didn't mean it. I didn't know what to do and I didn't want to bring him to you because I knew he hurt everyone. What was I supposed to do when I sent him to hell with his soul back? I was only seventeen and I didn't know how to handle it. I'm so sorry. So sorry so sorry so sorry" and her tears wouldn't stop. She couldn't seem to catch her breath and her chest got tighter and tighter as she sobbed before Giles, who stared down at her with such a cold, stony expression on his face. Unmoved. She'd severed their friendship. She'd ruined everything.

* * *

"Buffy, love, please wake up." She pushed his hand away and whimpered, turning onto her side and curling into a ball. Giles sighed and gently rolled her to face him, cupping her wet cheek. "Buffy." Pat, pat. "Buffy, please wake up." He pushed the wetness and her stray hair away.

When he failed to elicit a response, he carefully lowered his mental guard and he could feel her there, flailing and panicking. _Buffy, you need to wake. You're having a nightmare, love_.

She gasped, her eyes snapping open and rolling up to his face, wide and wet. "Giles?" she said, her voice hoarse. She grabbed his shirt, pulling him closer. "Giles I'm so sorry I didn't mean it I swear –"

"Shhh shhh shh, Buffy, we're fine. We're safe, dearest." His calm tone seemed to have the opposite effect, as Buffy started crying in earnest and burrowed her face against his chest. She could still feel the burning divots, smell the burnt flesh.

"No one ev-ver –hic- told me," she said, fighting more tears. "I didn't know… I didn't know… How could you n-not _tell_ me?!"

"Tell you what, love?" Giles said, smoothing his hand down her hair.

"Angel."

His hand stilled, and he looked down at the top of her head, true concern blossoming now. "What do you mean?" he asked cautiously.

She pulled back, sniffing as she gave him an incredulous look. "What do you mean, what do I mean? The _torture_ , Giles." He lowered his eyes, guarding her from the darkness that threatened to rise. "How can you even _look_ at me?" She pushed him away and rolled out of the bed, her arms wrapping tightly around herself. "I have to go, I can't stay here, I can't be here," she said, more muttering to herself than anything.

Buffy rolled her shoulders and moved to the door, barely getting it open before it slammed shut under Giles' weight. She looked up at him, trembling. "Please, I can't," she said, another tear rolling down her cheek.

"You knew he tortured me," Giles said softly. "Xander told you."

Buffy shook her head. "No." Tears welled and fell as she tried to pull the door open again. Giles leaned forward, shutting it. "No one told me," she said, her voice cracking and wavering as she stared at his hand on the door. "I knew you were hurt, but I didn't…" She drew a shaky breath and met his eyes again. "I didn't know," she added in a whisper.

When she opened the door, he let her slip out, watching her shuffle down the hallway. She entered another room and closed the door behind her. Giles sighed and leaned against the doorway, resting his forehead on his wrist. For the first time in a very long time, he wanted to strangle Xander.


	6. There Are Always Consequences

When he came to the room an hour later, he knocked softly on the door before he entered.

"Buffy…?" he said softly. He found her sitting on the bench below the bay window, her knees hugged to her chest. She was staring out the window at the pre-dawn light, slowly bringing in a new day. He carefully put his hand to her back, soothing with small circles. "Feel a bit better?"

"We should eat," she said quietly. Her voice was hoarse and thick. She sniffed and stiffly wiped her face. "Jeeves down there know how to cook, or should we fend for ourselves?"

"We should talk about this first. I know you don-"

She pulled away and stood, getting out of his reach. "No."

"Buffy –"

She whirled and stopped his protest with a full look at her face. Her skin was flushed and blotchy, her eyes bloodshot. When he reached for her she swatted his hand away, shaking her head.

"Don't. Don't try to make me feel better. I can't believe you let me take you to that hotel. Why would you let me do that to you?" Her voice rose as her eyes widened. "How can you stand it? I can't stand it, and I just had a nightmare! I want to.. I need to …" A frustrated growl crawled out of her throat and she screamed, turning and kicking the foot post of the bed. It splintered and the broken piece crashed into the wall, stuck in the plaster by the force of its entry. She whimpered and covered her face. "I'm sorry," she said softly, sinking to her knees. "I'm so sorry, Giles, I ruin everything."

Giles stepped forward, leaning down as he wrapped his arms around her, holding her. He carefully scooped her up and sat on the bed, settling her onto his lap so he could gently rock her as she cried. "You mustn't say such things," he said softly, kissing the top of her head.

"It's true," she retorted, petulant.

"Silly girl," he said, running his hand down her back. "We've both made mistakes –"

"Giles –"

"You've had your turn," he said, cutting her off. "Let me have mine." When she remained quiet, he hugged her closer to him. "We've made terrible mistakes, and we've learned from them. We'll continue to do so. It's the nature of a relationship, of being human." He closed his eyes, taking a deep breath. "I know you think this new avenue of our relationship is… good… but this is the kind of consequence that worried me so."

"Are there other bad memories hidden in there to ambush me?" she said, sounding calmer.

"I don't know. I didn't even realize you were there."

"Did you dream about it, too?"

"No," he said, a small, breathy laugh leaving him. "I was dreaming about your imaginary Bath wedding."

"Lucky."

"Rather." He leaned back a bit, urging her to meet his gaze. "I'm sorry, love. It wasn't something I ever wished you to see."

"I didn't just see it," she said, her voice heavy.

His brow tipped up in confusion for a split second before his eyes widened. "Oh no, love, you didn't –"

"Got the 4D experience. Yep." She looked down, pulling his left hand up to kiss his knuckles. "I can still feel these."

He winced and leaned his head down, resting his cheek on the top of her head. "I'm so sorry, Buffy."

"So we're both sorry, and neither owes an apology," she said, sniffing. "What a pair."

It worked, pulling a sardonic chuckle rumbling up from his chest. "Indeed." He gave her a gentle squeeze and kissed her temple. "Let's go rustle up some breakfast."

She snorted and nodded, slowly slipping from his lap. He offered his arm and she slipped under it, wrapping her arm around his lower back. He lowered his arm about her shoulders and they quietly moved down the stairs, ignoring the hurried step of Thomas as he rushed up the stairs to inspect the cracking wood he'd heard earlier.

* * *

Fed, showered, and freshly clothed – well, mostly… Buffy still had to wear one of Giles' shirts, and her own sweatpants. At least Thomas had cleaned them while she took a bath. They ventured down into Bath.

"Doctor Weston has overseen the care of my family for more than twenty years," he said, indicating the office ahead. He's more than aware of our profession and will not ask too many questions."

"Does everyone in this town know about us? Because I thought this was supposed to be a secret and so far, the secret seems to be out."

He chuckled and gave her rear a pat before he reached for the door. "Likely not," is all he replied.

Buffy rolled her eyes but dutifully followed him into the office. She took a seat in the waiting room while Giles asked for paperwork. He sank into the seat next to her and began filling out the form. He wagged his hand a moment, she noticed, and set to work again. When he wagged it a third and fourth time, Buffy pulled the pen and clipboard from him and set to finishing the work.

"That's not necessary," he said, trying to pull it back. Buffy cut him a look that stopped his reach. "Erm, very well, if you insist."

She finished his forms and took them to the smiling receptionist. Buffy managed to muster up an answering smile before she returned to her seat, grabbing a magazine and flipping through it as if it were the most fascinating magazine she'd ever beheld.

"Buffy, are you sure you're alright?" he asked quietly.

"I'm fine. Why?"

"Because that's a fishing magazine… and I've never known you to be fond of that sport in particular."

Buffy blinked down at the gaping dead-eyed fish, held by its gills by some sunburnt celebrity fisherman. "Ugh," she grunted, slapping it closed and tossing it back onto the table. "I hate waiting rooms."

"Let's distract you a bit then, hm?" he said, grabbing her hand. "Tell me something frivolous."

"I'm too tired for Whimsical Giles," she muttered, looking at him askance.

"Come now, Buffy. You must have some expectations for the wedding. You were talking about cakes and flowers as if you'd been planning it for weeks just last night." He kissed her hand, and wagged it in her vision. Light danced off the emerald.

"That was just… pretend," she said, a small sigh escaping her. She bit her lip. "I mean, every time something special is planned, it gets ruined by –" she stopped herself, her eyes darting to the obviously-eavesdropping receptionist. "Well, you know."

"Then let's pretend," he said, wrapping his arm around her shoulders. She took a deep breath, enjoying his freshly showered Gilesean smells. "Tell me what you'd like to have for a pretend, fool-proof wedding."

She thought for a moment, and he gave her time. He enjoyed what she could imagine when she was left to her own creative devices.

"I think… spring colors would be nice. Something to go with all the green you'd like to have. Same with the flowers. Lots of ivy and wildflowers spilling out of the bouquet and all the reception tables. Even some on an arch… like an English garden. Well, a Hollywood English garden, I guess. Maybe some roses thrown in for romance." She toyed with her ring, fully immersed now as he quietly listened. "I don't care what kind of cake it is, as long as it's tall and pretty and it tastes good."

"What about your dress?"

"I used to want this poofy princess monstrosity when I was little," she said, a giggle bubbling up. "It had this big bow on the butt and everything. Very Disney."

"Sounds atrocious."

Buffy hummed in agreement. "But something long and flowy would be nice. Like Princess Di."

"You Americans and your princess," he muttered, grinning when she clucked her tongue at him.

* * *

"Rupert, it's been ages," said Dr. Weston, clapping Giles on the shoulder as he shook his patient's hand. Giles winced and rolled it a little. "Oh my, had a bit of a run-in, did we?"

Buffy took in the sight of him, blinking as she watched the doctor flit around the exam room. His activity and energy belied his obvious ( _advanced_ ) age.

"I was, yes," said Giles, sitting himself onto the exam table. He carefully unbuttoned and removed his shirt. Livid bruising had formed overnight, looking much worse in the harsh light of the fluorescent bulbs above. Buffy stared at his face, afraid to look at any part of him as memories of her nightmare tried to surface. She pushed them down, out, away from the forefront of her mind.

 _You. Cannot. Panic._

Dr. Weston set to work, poking, prodding, listening, moving. "How about those ribs, Rupert. Do they feel broken?"

"No. Just bruised."

Weston moved around the table to Giles back and let out a low whistle. "You've been busy in America."

"Quite."

Weston set his stethoscope to Giles' back, ordering him to breathe. He nodded. "Lungs sound clear, that's good. No cuts or bites, from this excursion at least." Weston grabbed up the chart and wrote some notes. "I'll be back in a mo'. We need a tox screen, should be ready in a day or two." He dropped the chart on the counter and left the room, flashing a smile at Buffy as he walked by.

Alone, Buffy stepped forward and trailed her fingers over the new welts, and the old scars. Things she'd found sexy in their mystery were grotesque and haunting now. Giles moved to catch her hand and she side-stepped his reach, moving around the table to his back. She trailed her fingertips over the long, ragged scar over his shoulder that ran down to his mid-back.

"Did he really use a chainsaw on you?" she asked quietly.

It took him a moment, the word barely making it from Giles' throat. "…yes."

Buffy nodded, fighting back the tears, and leaned forward to kiss his shoulder. Then she walked back around the table to kiss him fully, her hands gently resting on his chest.

"I healed," he said softly. "I'm alright, love."

"Never again," she said, the stony resolve in her eyes surprising him. "Nothing like this will ever happen again."

"Buffy," he said, his features softening as he pulled her to him. "You can't promise that, any more than you could possibly know –"

"I will never let anyone hurt you again," she said, her voice ringing with finality. Giles sighed, letting the matter drop.

All he could think to say was "Thank you."


End file.
